My dear Mongoose
by I-ate-a-panadol
Summary: AU: Harry might have been a Hufflepuff, but the boy was definitely not a badger. Harry didn't belong to any of the houses in Hogwarts, having none of the representatives traits of the house of lions, ravens and serpents. Same age Harry and Tom, not time-travel,
1. Chapter 1

The first time Tom heard of Harry Potter was during the sorting.

Two heads in front of him stood a petite first year. He was the shortest first year in the hall. It was only when he was sorted could Tom see the boy's face. It was much like the rest of him, petite, but covered mostly by his thick, black glasses. The boy was sorted into Hufflepuff- the house of the leftovers. As the boy clambered off the chair that was too high for his toes to reach the floor, Tom filed "Harry Potter" away into the archives of his memories; after all the boy was but another pathetic Hufflepuff.

As a Slytherin, Tom never thought he would speak with the diminutive Hufflepuff. Slytherins didn't share classes with Hufflepuffs and Tom simply was not one who would go out of his way to socialize with those who would not be of use to him. He was however, proved wrong when he ran into Walgurba Black in the Slytherin common rooms.

Walgurba Black was a third year Slytherin. Within his first week as part of Slytherin, Tom quickly learnt how the hierarchy of his house worked. Purebloods ruled at the top and Mudbloods were the outcasts of their society. Half-bloods were generally ignored, neither respected nor scorned. As the daughter of a old pureblood family, Walgurba Black was no doubt at the peak of the Slytherin hierarchy. Tom on the other hand, was considered a Mudblood. He however, knew he was definitely not. He was much greater than that. He wielded magic that was stronger than any one of his peers and for this great power to have came from pathetic muggles was impossible.

Others however, didn't care, so when Walgurba ran into Tom as he walked down the stairs into the common rooms, it was Tom's fault, not hers. She shrieked at him like the crazy bint she was, and was about to curse him when a petite figure appeared next to her. The boy had his hand over hers, putting her assault to halt.

He frowned disapprovingly at her. He reached out and offered a hand to Tom who was still on the floor. His action was out of goodwill, but to Tom, it was but a mocking gesture. He ignored the boy's hand, standing on his own. Walgurba seemed to fume at his disregard towards Harry's help and was shouting words of insult. He turned around and walked out of the common room to head to the library, disregarding her fury.

He assumed that his rude snide would have been the end of the incident but was once again, sorely mistaken. The little Hufflepuff had chased after him, causing pricks of irritation to run down his neck.

_'Does he want me to thank him for his courageous act now?'_ Tom thought as he snapped around and snarled at the boy, "What do you want?"

The last thing he expected however, was for Harry Potter to apologize.

* * *

Harry Potter was not his friend.

Tom didn't need friends; what more Hufflepuff friends. The two boys however, did tend to spend large amounts of their time together. Tom was often in the library, the Slytherin Dormitories being too disruptive for any productive studying, and Harry would often join him in silence, doing his homework or reading a book.

Tom knew much about Harry despite them being not-friends. Their conversations started off as small talk, which slowly built up over the days spent together by the two. By the end of the Christmas break, Tom could confidently say that he knew Harry the best. Harry Potter, or rather Calypso Orpheus Black, was the child of Dorea Black and Marius Black. Harry was conceived when Dorea was only seventeen. It was only after Marius was disowned, for marrying a muggle, did she find out about her pregnancy. She was to marry Charlus Potter, a man who loved her deeply, and was torn between abortion and confession.

Eventually, she swallowed the shame and told Charlus about her pregnancy. He accepted her and still had her as his wife.

He couldn't however, accept Harry.

Despite Dorea having named him, Charlus insisted on changing the child's name. Calypso was a living reminder that another man had bed his wife, something he could not tolerate. He renamed him Harry Potter, a plain, simple name he spouted without thought; anything was fine, so long it wasn't remotely Black.

Harry grew up without any paternal love.

Charlus loathed his existence, never speaking to him a word more than necessary. Dorea loved him as any mother would love her child, but never showed any outward affection, especially in front of Charlus. As a child, he would often wonder why his parents didn't love him, but as he grew up, he eventually understood why. He was a reminder of Dorea's mistake. He was an unwanted burden upon his family.

He resented Charlus. But even so, he begged not to be sorted into Slytherin, knowing of Charlus's irk towards the snakes. He was often overlooked, physique small due to pre-mature birthing. His voice was small, soft, hardly heard. He yearned for love, for acceptance.

Which was why when a letter addressed to Harry about Dorea's newly discovered pregnancy, Tom was not surprised by how Harry's face seemed to drain of all colour. The new child would mean even less love for Harry; something Harry already had little of. Harry dreaded returning home that summer and wept the night before, huddled up in Walgurba's arms in the Slytherin common rooms where Tom could only gaze upon his pitiful figure helplessly.

* * *

The first time the two of them fought was at the start of their second year.

Tom's summer at the orphanage was dreadful as always. The older boys picked on him and physically assaulted him as always which made him hyper-aware to every single touch. Which was why when Harry ran towards him and caught him in a hug, he pushed the other boy away roughly in reflex. The other boy stared at him, chocolate brown eyes wide in a mixture of shock and hurt. Tom turned around as his insides clenched in a way it never had before, wanting to walk away from the source of this new, unknown sensation he felt. Harry however, didn't seem willing to let it go. He grabbed onto Tom's arm, right where a large bruise was, causing the Slytherin to wince.

When he turned, glaring at the younger boy, he found himself staring into those expressive orbs, filled with concern which cause even more chaos to his innards. When Harry yanked up his sleeve to reveal the ugly bruise that marred his skin, Tom reacted the only way he knew how to; yell. He hid the shame and embarrassment he felt by ghosting those vulnerable emotions with anger, an emotion he was much more familiar with.

The second those words left his mouth however, the repulsive feelings of regret started curling in his stomach.

He couldn't bare to see the way Harry's eyes widened, even more than they already were, into wide saucers.

He turned away, ignoring the stares he received as he stormed into the first empty compartment and slammed the door shut.

* * *

He knew from the very start, of his ability to speak to snakes, but thought nothing of it until after the incident at King's station.

He realized how his housemates had suddenly came to respect him, and how other students seemed to fear him and quickly went to read up about his talent. The exhilaration he felt when he learned that parseltongue was a hereditary trait of the Slytherin family was unparalleled. Drunk in joy, the first thing he wanted to do was to find Harry, tell him how he was right- that he was special, _better_ than the rest- only to remember of their fight the day before.

Harry had yet to apologize to Tom for being nosy and Tom couldn't bring himself to give a damn for it was Harry's loss, not his- or so he told himself.

Initially, Tom decided that he would give Harry a week to apologize. A week dragged to weeks, and weeks dragged on to months. Even after moths, Tom had yet to hear a single word from Harry. At times, he would look at the boy's solitary figure, sat at the Hufflepuff table, in a sort of longing, but he would rather die than admit of his wimpy feelings.

Eventually however, Tom couldn't help but admit that yes- he missed Harry.

Despite being surrounded by all the rich, talented purebloods who now grovelled at his feet, the only person's company he truly enjoyed was Harry's. It was the first time in Tom's life that he wished he could go back in time and undo what he had done- not that he would tell anyone. He sorely missed Harry and yearned for the boy. Saying sorry would be the easiest way to mend their relationship, but his pride simply wouldn't allow him to _apologize_. It didn't matter though, he was Tom Riddle and he would eventually manage to win the boy back.

* * *

The last word one could use to describe Tom was brash.

No, Tom was a Slytherin. He would plan and scrutinize, calculate and contemplate before putting his plans into action. Harry however, managed to throw him off his loop as the boy always did.

The Yule feast was a simple affair. Few students, less than twenty, stayed back in Hogwarts for Christmas. House tables were replaced by a single, long table that would fit all the students comfortably. Tom was sitting across Harry, who was still avoiding him like plague, when a owl flew past, dropping an envelope on Harry's lap.

Mail was usually delivered in the morning when the students were eating breakfast, which made it peculiar for Harry to have received his at such an odd timing.

Tom observed Harry as he ripped the letter open and read it. His warm, brown orbs flashed an emotion which reflected depth he had only seen in the younger boy's eyes only once; and dread curled in his stomach. Harry crunched the letter in his fists and ran out of the Great Hall, hardly able to hide the tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.

All coherent thought was thrown out of Tom's mind and the only thing he could think of was the look in Harry's eyes as he ran out of the Great Hall. He dashed out, chasing the boy.

Tom easily caught up with Harry and wrapped his arms around the smaller body.

He doesn't remember that night clearly. Neither of them can. Both were too caught up in emotions to remember.

The next morning however, Tom woke up with Harry wrapped in his arms, and it feels him with a sort of indescribable warmth.

Waking up with Harry in his arms was something Tom could get used to.

* * *

Harry woke up shortly after and despite the awkwardness, the two managed to wash up and go for breakfast, after which they agreed to talk.

The series of happenings were occurring in ways that were far off Tom's plans, but Tom couldn't bring himself to put a stop to anything, especially with Harry was just mere inches from him.

The two of them sat on Tom's bed for the rest of the day and talked.

Harry surprised Tom, starting their conversation by thanking him for the night before. The genuine gratitude Harry's voice carried was something Tom couldn't comprehend. Tom had been a total prick and yet Harry, dear sweet Harry held no grudge towards his actions.

The two of them spoke of the incident, of Tom's life in the orphanage. Tom told Harry of things he never thought he would tell another. He told him of his childhood, of his detest towards the muggles and had laid himself open to Harry. Harry held his hand, told him that things would be okay, that he would make things okay, and for once in Tom's life, he felt hope.

The two of them spoke of the letter. Harry told Tom, that his mother passed away hours after birthing to his younger brother. His father had disowned him, not wanting to be reminded of his dead wife in such an unpleasant manner. Harry lost the only person who unconditionally loved him, the only roof he had over his head. He wept tears of forlornness, of loss and of despair. Tom wrapped his strong arms around his frail body, holding him in a hug in silence.

Harry might have been a Hufflepuff, but the boy was definitely not a badger. Harry didn't belong to any of the houses in Hogwarts, having none of the representatives traits of the house of lions, ravens and serpents.

No, the boy was special. The only animal Tom could compare Harry to was a mongoose. He was the only person who saw Tom in such a vulnerable state. He was the only person who could come close enough to the Slytherin Heir to harm him. As he held Harry in his arms, he promised to himself that never again would he allow such agony to be cause upon his little mongoose.

* * *

A/N: This plot bunny struck me while I was waiting for my paper to end today lolol. I think I've been reading too much hannigram :')

Anyways, I actually have the rest of the story planned out already but I'm not sure if I should type the rest out or just leave this as a one shot. Regardless, even if I do, it'll be a two or three-shot at most.

14/08/13


	2. Chapter 2

It did not take long for Tom's 'minions', as Harry liked to call them, to notice the changes in the dynamics of their relationship. All the conflict between the two were straightened out over Yule and all free time the two had were spent together. Harry- or rather Orpheus- would snuggle into his bed, refusing to return to his dorms, complaining that it was too far and that he was too tired. Tom, despite all his chastise, never once insisted or had Orpheus return to his own dorms. Even though Tom was against such blatant rule breaking, he couldn't help but luxuriate in having the warm body pressed against his chest.

Tom hated wasting his time, but some how, he could spend eons watching Orpheus, an indulgence Tom allowed himself to have every morning.

Tom was an early riser, unlike Orpheus who enjoyed sleeping in until sunlight blared through the curtains, forcing him to get up. Every morning, he would wake and spend a few minutes, entranced in the soft breathing of Orpheus, the slow rise and fall of the boy's chest, and the peaceful look on his face. After his small indulgence, Tom would leave for a morning jog to keep fit; after all, wizard or not, keeping fit was something that he would never neglect.

Whenever he left the bed however, Orpheus would let out a soft grumble, seemingly having noticed Tom's absence, despite not having woken up.

It was a sight that never failed to rouse a warm, tingling sensation in Tom's chest.

It wasn't long however, before the Yule break came to an end.

As the buzz of life returned to the castle, Orpheus too, had returned to his own bed.

It was only during the privacy of the Yule break that allowed Tom to let his guard down. Now that the students had returned, Tom could not afford to let his perfect mask slip, and that would mean sleeping alone in bed. After all, allowing Orpheus to sleep in his bed during the school term would not only make Tom seem weak, it would also get him into trouble with the professors and prefects.

Hence, the two fell back to the routine of their first year; spending time together in the library, then returning to the dorms at night.

Tom's little group of friends soon realized how scarce his presence in the common room had become and would time to time, much to Orpheus's annoyance, seek his company out in the library where he would be found with Orpheus.

The Slytherins were neutral towards Orpheus. Despite his _incestuous_ blood, his blood was also purely that of the Blacks. Some of them would try to make small talk with the boy but it quickly stopped once Tom glared at whoever spoke to Orpheus. Everyone simply assumed that he did not appreciate the noise, especially since that was what Tom would some times say whenever Orpheus brought the subject up.

Tom however, knew that deep down, hidden behind the annoyance was the burning emotion of jealousy.

Orpheus too, seemed to know- but never once did the boy complain. Some times after those petty incidents, he would be even more affectionate, as if trying to reassure Tom.

It didn't matter though; Orpheus was _his_ and his only.

* * *

It was in their third year when their lips first touched.

The two spent their summer in the castle of Hogwarts, a place that was slowly becoming their home.

Orpheus had spoken to his grandfather, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Phineas Nigellus Black in regards to it.

By no means was Phineas Black a loving, codling grandfather- he wasn't even that great a father- but ultimately, he gave in, allowing Orpheus and Tom to stay. Tom was not surprised when Orpheus came crashing into him, jumping in joy that the headmaster had given them permission to stay in Hogwarts over the summer. The Blacks, however estranged, would always help family- so long they weren't blood traitors or half-bloods- and as the Heir of Slytherin, Tom was more than welcomed to reside in the castle his ancestor used to live in. Without doubt, the headmaster knew he resided in the orphanage, which was perhaps, another reason why he allowed such an arrangement.

There was a hidden chamber within the Slytherin common rooms which led to a rather spacious room that Slytherin had constructed for his future descendants, were they to study in Hogwarts. It was their Summer residence of sorts The bed was much larger, much more comfortable than the one in the dorms, which was why even after the school term begun and Orpheus had returned to the Hufflepuff dormitories, Tom remained there.

None of the Slytherins said anything about his sudden change of rooms; after all he was the descendant of Slytherin, and he had every right to use the room.

Despite the stark contrast in the atmosphere at Hogwarts during summer and during the school term, bits of their summer spent together couldn't help but bleed through to the school term. They no longer had to meet in the library to spend time alone together; instead, they spent most of their time together in Tom's room. From time to time, when the common rooms were less crowded, the two would sit by the fireplace- something Orpheus seemed to enjoy. Tom would lounge in the plush armchair while Orpheus would just sit on the plush carpeted floor, leaning against the armchair as he stared at the dancing sparks of flames.

The Slytherins never questioned Orpheus's presence in their common rooms. The boy never stayed pass curfew, never caused any trouble, and was always in the company of Tom Riddle; the main reason as to why they kept silent.

Everyone seemed to ignore Orpheus's presence, not wanting to get into trouble with neither he teachers, nor the heir of Slytherin. The few who did not however, never failed to get on Tom's nerves.

Tom was not blind to the growing beauty of Orpheus. His cheekbones became more defined and jawline even stronger. His hair grew longer, soft black strands brushing his collar as he walked. His eyes, warm deep chocolate brown, held a sort of gentleness that contrasted his sharp, aristocratic features. His lips, his plush red lips that would curl into a smile whenever he saw Tom, that seemed so soft that Tom would sometimes caress them gently with his fingertips when Orpheus was asleep, that Tom couldn't help but wonder what would taste like.

Would it be like sweet honey, like the sweets the boy always ate? Or would it be like the grape-flavoured toothpaste Tom knew Orpheus loved?

It took a while for Tom to register and understand his growing feelings towards the other boy. He started feeling certain _urges_ that he kept well hidden, deep inside him until he was sure the other boy was ready for them.

Somehow, Orpheus's innocence seemed untainted by adolescence. Tom couldn't help but want to corrupt the pure, young boy. He wanted to taint him, to see him debauched and bared, all for the eyes of him alone; but not until Tom knew Orpheus was ready. He had no need to rush to pursue the boy, not when Orpheus was already his.

Orpheus belonged to him. Tom wanted to monopolized all of Orpheus; his time, his attention, his everything. The other boy knew the extent of his possessive behaviour, but never once uttered a word of displeasure. He knew that Orpheus knew who he belonged to; but that was not the reason behind his annoyance.

He could see the way others stared at Orpheus. The boy might have been oblivious to the way certain upperclassmen looked like they wanted to devour him whole, or the way those disgusting girls swooned at him with heart shaped eyes, but Tom knew very well what thoughts those wolves harboured towards his sweet, dear Mongoose.

Often, the boy would be by his side, which made protecting him easier, especially now that they shared the same classes. He guarded against the upperclassmen more, especially the Slytherins. Little did he expect however, that the ones he should have been wary of were those sneaky little twerps.

Tom had been held up by Professor Slughorn who wanted to invite him to the Yule Party the pudgy professor was holding for his little 'Slug Club'. Tom planned to bring Orpheus along, especially since the professor mentioned dates being invited as well. By the time he reached the Great Hall, he saw Orpheus standing by the entrance, next to a blushing first year who kept fiddling with her pigtails. Tom was amused by the obvious discomfort Orpheus felt about the situation and couldn't help but watch the two with a raised eyebrow. Orpheus met his gaze, as if he knew Tom was there, and sent him a pleading look as he tried to squirm away.

Before Tom could interfere though, the girl grabbed Orpheus and launched herself onto the other boy who was frozen in shock.

Tom whipped out his wand and pointed it at the bloody first year, yelling a spell, causing her to freeze in mid air and fall face-flat onto the floor before her lips could sully Orpheus's. He hardly registered the chaos that broke out after that and couldn't bring himself to be bothered. He grabbed Orpheus's hand and marched off to his own rooms through the crowds of curious onlookers and slammed the door shut.

Tom was enraged. His blood was boiling and he could feel his nails digging into the flesh of his palms, deep enough to draw blood. It took every single ounce of control he had to not kill the girl on the spot and even now, he could feel his clenched fist trembling in rage.

It was only when he felt a smaller hand prying open his clenched fist did he snap out of his anger.

"Tom, calm down," Orpheus's soft voice said, laced with concern, "Don't hurt yourself."

Tom couldn't help but laugh.

He had stunned a first year, displayed an unhealthy amount of possessiveness and all his dear Orpheus could worry about was him. Not the pathetic first year Ravenclaw- if the colour of her robes were of any indication, but _him_. He, who had willingly, in fact, happily hurt some younger girl. He, who took pleasure in others' pain. He, who was dark and tainted.

Perhaps it was the fleeting expressions, or perhaps Orpheus simply knew him _too_ well.

Tom didn't know and didn't care, as he felt Orpheus's hands on his face, as he heard the caress of the boy's words the he whispered, loud enough just for him to hear.

"Yours Tom; I'm all yours. Only yours."

Even after all the time, perhaps more than he would ever admit, he spent imagining how heavenly Orpheus's lips would feel against his, it couldn't compare to the utter euphoria of the actual act; the way the smaller boy's pout-y soft lips crashed against his without a trace of hesitation.

Honey.

Orpheus tasted just like honey.

* * *

A/N: Can I just express my undying love for possessive!Tom/Voldemort. Seriously I think it's like the hottest thing ever :')

As to why I'm using "Harry's" middle name rather than first, will be explained in the future. (if I ever manage to fit it in, most likely somewhere in the fifth year)

And if you think Tom's being psycho and overreacting and shizz, I suggest you stop reading it because the poor girl will eventually be mentioned again in the future and well, worse things happen to her than getting stupefi-ed.

If you can guess who she is I'll tell you a spoiler to this story ;) (just tell me what you wanna know haha)

-22/08/13


	3. Chapter 3

The first time Tom tortured a Slytherin was in their forth year.

That year, many changes occurred. Tom's "minions" became his death eaters. Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort. Most importantly, Calypso Orpheus Black became Tom's consort.

Tom had spent the summer doing much research. Over the years, he had discovered the many flaws of the Ministry. He would always complain about them to Orpheus, and the more he did, the more resolute he became to overthrow the jurisdiction. Orpheus supported him; encouraged him even, despite not having views as strong as his. His love merely wanted him to be happy; for him to do what he pleased to.

Tom had everything he needed. He had a group of followers that he could train to be his army. He had the intelligence, the charm, and the charisma a leader required. All he required was a new name- an alias.

The name Tom was too common, too plain for a man as great as he was. It was a name for the unachieved fools like his father and the bartender at Diagon Alley. He hated the name; it was a reminder of his past. He found it ironic, how a simple name could carry so much power. It was during his birthday, in his third year that he found out about his parentage. Orpheus knew how curious he was about his heritage and had gifted him a potion, a newly invented, rather costly potion, that would sketch out his family tree.

He discovered, that it was not his mother who was a muggle, but his father.

He was stunned; bewildered. If his mother was a witch, why did she die at childbirth? It was common for women from pureblood lines to experience complications of childbirth, but it was only with the second child did such complications arise. He was the first and only child; it made no sense to him.

He never liked his name but now that he knew who he was named after, his filthy muggle of a father, his dislike morphed into detest.

He spent hours thinking of a name; a name eminent enough for him. However, it wasn't in the library where he found his inspiration. Instead, it was in his little mongoose.

After an hour spent futilely at the library, Tom had decided to return to their room to check on Orpheus to see if he had awoken. As expected, his love was lounging on the couch, washed up and awaiting him to return for breakfast, reading a book. Orpheus had taken an interest in muggle literature, something that Tom found rather silly.

"What work of the muggles could be as great as that of a wizards?" he had pointed out when he first saw Orpheus reading Shakespeares. Orpheus had just responded by grabbing his book back from Tom, swatting his hand away and sticking out his tongue; that deliriously delicious tongue that Tom couldn't help but capture hungrily in his mouth.

"You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life," Tom recited as he draped his arms around Orpheus's neck from behind the armchair.

"Really my love; Hamlet?" he teased as he pecked the younger boy's cheek affectionately.

"Oh hush you," Orpheus laughed as he turned to give Tom a chaste kiss on the lips.

He set his book on the coffee table before standing up and asking, "How's the progress?"

"Stagnant," Tom replied monotonously as they sat at the dinning table, eating the breakfast Orpheus had prepared. His love enjoyed cooking and never failed to whip up their daily meals when he had the time to.

"Hmm," Orpheus hummed thoughtfully as he chewed on his bacon, "What about an anagram? Like Hamlet?"

It was that suggestion that inspired the name Tom decided to adopt.

Vol de mort

The flight of death.

The name that would one day strike fear and reverence into the very core of the wizarding world.

* * *

Unlike with Orpheus, Tom's change in name quickly spread amongst the Slytherins.

It started off with his inner circle and soon spread to the whole house of Slytherin. It started off as Voldemort, but ever since Lestrange had jokingly started calling him Lord Voldemort, the Slytherins soon picked it up, calling him Lord Voldemort. It annoyed him that they did it out of affection rather than respect; that the name and title of Lord was being used as an endearment, as a nickname.

It all changed though, the day Walgurba Black decided to foolishly challenge his authority.

Walgurba Black had always been a sore in the thumb.

She had never liked Tom; seeing him as beneath her. And when Tom rose to the top of the hierarchy, she was as sour as sour could get. She never showed her despise towards Tom, but Tom knew how the girl felt. Her subtle disrespect and dirty looks would have been more than enough to warrant punishment if not for her relation to Orpheus. His dear mongoose had a soft spot for his cousin, especially since she had looked out for him over the years.

She overstepped the line however, when she tried to turn Orpheus against him.

Tom had told Orpheus to go ahead as he had to look for some professor. He noticed how Walgurba approached Orpheus the moment he left and suddenly decided that the question he had to asked was rather unimportant.

He followed the two under a disillusionment charm to an empty classroom.

Walgurba was clever enough to cast a silencing charm to prevent the students wandering outside to overhear their conversation. Tom however, was inside the room with the two, not outside, and had no difficulties listening in on Walgurba's 'advice' to Orpheus to break things off with Tom.

"His obsession with you is unhealthy! Can't you see?!" she exclaimed in agitation.

Orpheus's face was blank but Tom could the tension in his small form.

"He loves me," Orpheus replied simply, "He's the only one that does."

"Can't you see that I love you too?! You're my cousin Calypso! I'll always love you!" Walgurba shouted in frustration.

It was as if a rubber band had snapped the moment Walgurba addressed Orpheus as Calypso. A sudden bang rang through the room as a table next to the two blew up into pieces. Orpheus displayed a level of anger Tom had never seen before. The boy's magic was running wild and his jaw and fists was clenched and was literally shaking in anger. A pregnant silence filled the room, Walgurba frozen in surprise and Orpheus trying to control calm his magic.

Orpheus absolutely loathed the name Calypso. It was a constant reminder of how unwanted he was, of how he was the _hidden._ (1)

"Do _not_ call me by that name." Orpheus spoke, voice deadly calm.

Still rooted to the ground, struck by fear, Walgurba could only remain in silence.

"I love Tom. The only thing that can do us part is death. This conversation is over," Orpheus stated as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Tom followed Orpheus back into their room, removing the disillusionment charm as soon as he left the classroom. It was without doubt that Orpheus had noticed Tom's presence in the room and there was no point in keeping the charm up.

It was only when they were in the privacy, in the safety, of their room did Orpheus finally let his tears flow freely.

Tom simply held him tenderly in his arms, stroking his back until Orpheus fell asleep.

Later that evening after dinner, Tom left Orpheus sleeping peacefully in their bed.

It was time to put on a show.

* * *

"My fellow Slytherins! Gather round for a little show!" Tom announced as he twirled his wand in his hand.

Waves of dark magic oozed off Tom, compelling every Slytherin to move in, to get as close as they could to the source of the seductive magic. Tom cast a body-binding spell on Walgurba before levitating her into the air, allowing everyone to catch a good view of what he was about to do to her.

"You see, Walgurba here, decided that it would be wise to go against me and I don't really appreciate those who defy me. Accio Walgurba Black's wand!" Tom said as he snapped Walgurba's wand into two, eliciting shocked gasps from a few of the younger Slytherins. He used a slicing hex to strip Walgurba of her robes, her dignity, and directed the bits and pieces of cloth to the fireplace.

He continued, alternating between using the slicing hex to make random cuts on her skin and using fienfyre to burn parts of her skin. Tears and blood flowed from Walgurba as the Slytherins watched in fear. No one dared to make a sound, not wanting to provoke Tom.

"Not to worry however, Lord Voldemort is forgiving!" Tom suddenly exclaimed in jest, mocking voice penetrating the deafening silence of the room as he suddenly came to a stop.

"Heal her." Tom ordered Abaraxas Malfoy who shakily stood forward to heal her wounds.

The blonde hardly made any progress however, before Tom suddenly interrupted.

"Ah! I forgot! Walgurba not only tried to go against me, but also tried to turn Orpheus against me!" Tom said in feigned realization, sudden exclamation so shocking that it made the dignified Malfoy fall to his knees in fear.

"My poor, lovely consort, Orpheus. My beautiful, beloved Orpheus," Tom sighed dreamily, as if lost in thought of Orpheus.

"IS UPSET!" he yelled, casting the cruciatus on Walgurba.

The sudden changes in his attitude, the unpredictability and the sheer power the heir of Slytherin possessed struck fear in the core of every single Slytherin. No one dared to so much as move, fearing the wrath of Lord Voldemort.

Walgurba couldn't even scream; voice locked by the binding spell, agony showing only in her eyes.

"Tom?" a sweet, melodious voice said, breaking the shattering the stagnant air.

Tom lowered his wand, turning to walk towards a sleep-dazed Orpheus to capture his lips in a kiss.

"Yes my love?" he asked, after casting a silencing charm around them. Tom was slightly tensed, worried as to how Orpheus might react, well aware of Orpheus's soft spot for Walgurba.

Sensing his tension, Orpheus cupped his face gently to reassure him.

"So, I'm your consort now?" he asked teasingly, eyes wrinkling in a smile.

Tom simply tore down the silencing charm cast around them in reply as he ordered, "Poor Walgurba was found in the Forbidden Forest. Lestrange, take her to the Hospital Wing."

"Yes, my Lord." came the reply from a kneeling Lestrange.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! I'll most likely finish this story then continue with Colours of Life. I've been rather caught up in studies and it kinda drains my mood to write. ): **

**I created a tumblr so you can follow me there if you want to know my writing progress or anything! (: .com**

(1) Calypso can mean "to hide", "to conceal" etc.


	4. Chapter 4

It was in their fifth year that Orpheus and Tom started sleeping together every night.

Tom, as expected, had received his prefect badge alongside his book list. In addition to his new power of authority, the _accident_ last year cemented his position at the peak of Slytherin's hierarchy which granted him absolute control over everything that occurred in the Slytherin dorms, including allowing Orpheus to permanently reside with him. No one dared to report anything about the Hufflepuff's new living arrangements, not wanting to incur the wrath of Lord Voldemort.

The power _thrilled_ Tom.

* * *

The summer before their sixth year, Headmaster Black summoned the two boys to his office.

"Headmaster," the two had greeted.

"Calypso," the headmaster nodded, disregarding his grandson's nugatory flinch, "Mr. Riddle. Sit."

* * *

"Fuck!" Tom yelled in frustration the moment he was back in the Slytherins' common room.

His fists were clenched in anger, magic thrumming in agitation. He couldn't believe how _naive_ he had been. For the past six years, he had spent every summer in the castle with Orpheus, seeing it as his birthright as the Heir of Slytherin, but that was when Phineas Black was the headmaster.

On top of being Orepheus's estranged grandfather, he was also a _Slytherin_. Even though Tom was still a child in legal terms, the headmaster would know better than to risk offending someone as potentially dangerous as himself. Hence, Phineas Black's bias was more than expected. And so, Tom had spent the past years residing in the castle with his love every summer.

What he forgot however, was that the only reason why Tom could stay was because of the permission the headmaster had given.

Now, that the headmaster was leaving, Tom had to return to the orphanage.

Armando Dippet- the next headmaster.

Headmaster Black had told them about his supposed _retirement_. It was common knowledge that the man, like many other purebloods, was a blood supremacist and a supporter of Grindleward. With the war reaching its climax, the headmaster's sudden leave was no doubt due to the war. He informed them that the next headmaster was Armando Dippet, a renowned charms master- and close friend of one Albus Dumbledore.

_Albus Dumbledore. _

The thought of the meddling old coot alone had Tom's already volatile magic to convulse through the room in acrimony.

The shrieking of the portrait in reaction to a fragment of the glass piercing through her canvas snapped Tom back to reality. He didn't have the time to sulk like a petulant child.

With a wave of his wand, he pieced the shattered fragments of the window glass back together.

He schooled his enmity before making his way to the library, joining Orpheus who was reading up on emancipation.

* * *

It was at the Start-of-Term Feast did Tom see Armando Dippet for the first time.

The man was tall; even nearly as tall as the half-giant Gryffindor Hagrid. He wore a coonskin cap over his hair- strands of silvering flame that curled gently at the end, brushing the fur lining of the majestic coat he had draped over his towering figure.

"Settle down!" his voice, a deep baritone, bellowed through the room, silencing all the curious buzzing.

"I am Armando Dippet, your new headmaster. Due to unforeseen circumstances, Headmaster Black has retired. Now, eat."

* * *

Tom was making his prefect rounds when he _coincidentally_ ran into the new headmaster at the hallway outside the headmaster's office.

"Good evening sir," he greeted, donning the most charming smile he had.

"Mr Riddle. Everything go well I presume?"

Replying in affirmation, Tom nodded a goodbye before continuing with his patrols.

* * *

It was three weeks later when Tom _chanced upon_ the headmaster during his patrols again, this time, outside the library.

"Headmaster," he nodded respectfully.

"Mr. Riddle," came the curt reply.

"I do hope Hogwarts has been well to you," he said courteously.

"Indeed, it has. The night is deep and I think it is about time I retreat to my bed chambers. Do have a good night," the headmaster said before turning around, walking off.

"Headmaster!" Tom called, stopping Headmaster Dippet in his footsteps.

"Yes?"

Glancing _subtly _at the book in the headmaster's hand, then back at the headmaster, Tom replied, "I'm sorry. It's nothing."

As he scurried away, Tom smirked prepensely.

* * *

The third time the two met, was when Tom approached the headmaster.

He had waited nervously outside the headmaster's office, waiting for him to return from lunch. When the headmaster saw him, fidgeting restlessly outside his office, he invited Tom, who hesitantly accepted his invitation, to join him for some tea.

"What is it Mr. Riddle?"

"I- I would like to file for emancipation," he stuttered in reply, gaze fixated on his hands, rested on his lap.

"Why is that so?" the man asked. Tom knew he was aware of the past situation in which he and Orpheus would stay in Hogwarts over the summer; and that he was the one who denied Tom the right to. He had allowed Orpheus to stay, taking pity in the Hufflepuff's situation and to respect the previous headmaster. It was obvious that Headmaster Dippet had a soft spot for familial ties and it was on that weakness which he would use.

"I have no where to go over the summer sir; I don't have a home," he replied, tone sorrowful.

"What about the orphanage?"

"That place is not my home," he snapped, causing the headmaster to frown in disapproval.

"I- I'm sorry sir. It's just- I hate that place. The children there...the matrons...everyone there hates me. They call me a demon, a devil, all because of the accidental magic I displayed when I was a child," he apologized, noticing the softening on the headmaster's expression.

"I'm sorry Tom, but I'm afraid that I am not the one who makes these decisions. If you would like however, Professor Slughorn and I can give you advice on how to go about doing so."

Tom grinned inwardly.

Everything was going according to plan.

* * *

**A/N: This is a really short chapter. Like _really_ short, but if it's of any comfort, the next chapter will be much much much longer. **

**Orpheus didn't appear much in this chapter but rest assured, he will be in a large portion of the next chapter. **

**Sadly tho, the next update will take a while, now with my end of year exams coming up. If it's of any consolation, there may or may not be some smut the next chapter ;)**

**Follow me on tumblr iateapanadol or panadolworks! :D**


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